


Double or Nothing

by Khep



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime)
Genre: Contestshipping, F/F, F/M, Masturbation, Multi, PWP, Threesome - F/F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-26
Updated: 2013-04-26
Packaged: 2017-12-09 13:26:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/774732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khep/pseuds/Khep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you're 22 and you've had a steady relationship for a number of years, you aren't supposed to wake up in the middle of the night from the beginnings of a wet dream about your girlfriend and your best friend making out with a distinct lack of clothing. You are <i>also</i> not supposed to follow that dream through to completion upon waking by help of your hand and your vivid imagination.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Double or Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> I was cyberbullied into this by [Saro](../users/Legendaerie/pseuds/Legendaerie) and her gang of Contestshippers to break the ice on the AO3 apparently-nonexistant category of Contestshipping and, relatedly, its porn. Unfortunately, this is not _completely_ Contestshipping, as Solidad makes a questionable appearance in the dreams of a young man who has no trouble keeping his hand(s) to himself.

It's with a crack of thunder preceeded by lightning that Drew wakes with a start, and notices his face feels unusually hot and cold at the same time. It isn't until the second rumble of thunder that shakes the apartment that he notices why, and it makes him groan and roll over on his side on the mattress and stuff his face into his pillow. It's when his eyes are closed and he listens to the harsh thrum of raindrops on glass that he recalls just what his dream was about, and suddenly the new strain in his boxer-briefs is completely explained. 

_Everything was soft, from hands to curves to lips to hair fanned out on the mattress. There had been a gentle, deliberate way in which Solidad's steps had led them into the bedroom, the way she had kissed May's lips swollen and encouraged her tongue to dance between them, the way hands slipped beneath fabric and touched the places that caused them both to sigh languidly and -_

Oh, Arceus. He's in trouble.

Drew rolls again to his back once more and props himself up on his elbows and pulls aside the sheets to look at the overzealous bulge between his legs and frowns at it. This problem should have been taken care of years ago, when he stopped being a teenager; when he got a girlfriend. He should no longer be waking up in the middle of thunderstorms due to wet dreams because he is no longer under the Iron Fist of Puberty and has May to satisfy any particular urges, should they arise. For lack of a better term. 

But May isn't here right now, and the rain is pelting his window and the wind is beating at the building and it's much too late to call her anyway, even if weather  _did_  permit, and the image of Solidad sucking a pretty purple hickey to his girlfriend's throat is permeating all sense of reason. 

...

...

...

Aw, fuck it.

His hands are at his crotch in a mere moment, palming himself through the thin fabric and sighing at the relief it floods through him to have even just that hint of contact. The warmth spreads but he forces his hands to go slow, to grip and tease playfully, to mirror the scene unfolding in his head that would require at least a week's worth of breakfasts in bed and another two of no sex at all to make up for if May ever found out. But she's not going to, and the thought is miles away, because right now May is doing that thing she does where her breath comes short and she's tugging on the front of Solidad's shirt a little desperately, like she can't wait to get it off. 

_Solidad didn't mind - in fact, it made her smile a little bit, a slight curve of her lips at the corners, against the skin of May's neck, and she stood back to unzip her jacket slowly. May watched with some anticipation and a little embarrassment, but her eyes were bright and aware of every movement and glide of fabric against skin. She didn't hesitate to raise her hands to touch newly-bared flesh when the jacket pooled on the floor, to cup one palm against the curve of a hip and the other to the curve of a breast. Solidad allowed her hands explore, and allowed May to touch where she wanted to, allowed her to test and figure out for herself where sensitive spots were, and to become accomodated to a body that was so new. But what seemed to last for hours was only a minute or so, and then they were pulled close again and kissing, and Solidad didn't wait for May to pull back before she was slipping her hands up her shirt again and tugging it up, over her shoulders, off over her head and tossing it to the floor to join her own jacket._

Drew, to his credit, is doing a fabulous job keeping himself from finishing then and there. He's kicked his boxers off somewhere now, the chill of the room only helping to cool down the hot flush that's been invading his body. He makes a fist and slides his hips forward, the head of his cock gliding smoothly through the tightened fingers and he groans, softly. While it isn't sex, it is not unpleasant and, in fact, a different kind of wonderful, now that he can compare the two. His other hand is pushing his bangs out of his face, mussing it in a way that his pillow can't hope to recreate on a normal night's sleep.

When the slow and tantalizing slick of his hand to the base of his dick reaches an end, he pulls his hips back and does it again, and then one more time before gripping himself tightly and thumbing the head of his cock until his throat releases some sort of almost-whine that he'd never admit to later. The scene in his mind continues to unfold, with clothing being removed in full and suddenly, Solidad has pulled May into her lap and there's a hesitant squeak from the smaller girl suddenly straddling her hips. 

 _Breasts pushed together, and it's ridiculous to see the comparison. May's chest had always been big, even back when he'd first met her and they were traveling the region and competing in contests. But Solidad's were small in comparison, and the contrast is a little ridiculous with them lined up together. But Solidad seemed to appreciate them, and before May could pull away, she had ducked her head forward to lave her tongue against one nipple. It made May cry out and arch forward into her mouth_ (and the way it makes her ass stick out is  _so_  damn gorgeous that Drew's hand moves quicker for a moment before he reminds himself to take it slow), _and her hands clutched tightly in the long hair that fell around the other's shoulders. That's a thing she's always done, when passion strikes, to clutch on to the nearest thing and hold tight as if she'll never let go._

 _Solidad found out just_ how _sensitive her nipples were when she nibbled, a short experiment, resulting in a high wail and clutching her head tighter. Her other hand moved to the other breast that was free and teased that one, too, and it almost made May come undone then and there. Given more time, she might have experimented to see if she really_ could _make May come by playing with her breasts alone, but there were more important things at hand. Mainly the wetness she knew was collecting between May's thighs, and whether or not she should clean it up with her tongue._

Which, god _damn_ , Drew can't help but fuck his hand a little faster at the thought. It's so different to imagine his girl as the submissive in this fantasy when he's used to picturing her with that winning little smirk on her face when she gets what she wants. Of course he's also seen her in the throes of passion, much like he's picturing, but it's much different as a bystander in his fantasy than performing in real life. He doesn't realize that he's filling the room to the molding with pants and soft moans until he notices he's louder than the storm outside, but that's because the girls in his head have switched positions, and May is being softly pressed to the mattress with her knees up and splayed wide, with Solidad's hair tickling her bare skin as her head kisses down May's torso towards the little triangle of coarse, brunette hair. 

And then his phone goes off. 

For a moment, he considers leaving it alone, finishing his business and going to sleep and checking it in the morning. But he also considers the violent storm outside and that someone he knows might need some help. He's horny, but not heartless, and gives an exasperated sigh as he puts his imagination on hold and reaches for the phone with his other hand.  

> _From: May, 2:26am  
> _ _Are you awake? The storm woke me up and now I can't sleep._

The hand still casually stroking his cock stills as the blush she can't see flashes across his face. His heart races and he thinks, maybe, he's been caught. But only for a split second before logic and reasoning take over. Still, the jolt of adrenaline and panic rushes through him and makes his dick jump in his hand for a moment and he curses that May has him so whipped and curses that he loves it. Typing one-handed is difficult. 

> _To: May, 2:28am  
> _ _Same here. That, and the dream I had that's got me jacking  
>  off right now, thanks for interrupting._

He deletes that last part and sends it off, and looks down at the cock in his hand and grumbles about not having any private time as the image of Solidad kissing down the inside of May's thigh starts to trickle from his mind. Which is for the best, he figures, because the last thing he needs is this playing in his imagination the next time he greets Solidad, or the next time she gives May a warm hug. The last thing he needs is to pop a boner watching his girlfriend and his best friend even interacting in the same room together. 

His phone goes off again. 

> _From: May, 2:29am  
> _ _What are you thinking about?_

> _To: May, 2:29am  
>  You._

The instantaneous response isn't a lie, but it's also only a half-truth. He's thinking about May, yes, but also of the sounds she's making as Solidad's kissing ends with a light peck to the rosy bud of her clitoris, and the way her body quivers when Solidad's tongue traces the line of her slit and circles her clit again. It only takes a second and his cock is just as hard, if not harder, than it was before, and instead of going slow his hand speeds up. Because he's  _going_  to finish what he started and it's  _going_  to be good, all distractions be damned. With vigor renewed, he ignores his phone going off again and focuses. Hands, tongues, the wet sheen of May's cunt as Solidad reduces her to whimpered begging with just a few well-timed licks. 

_The stress of holding back made her thighs quiver on either side of Solidad's face between them. While one hand raised to cup her breast, the other reached down and tangled in long, pink-red hair and urged her on, pushed bangs out of her face so she could make eye contact with the lovely woman down there. Her fingers tightened and a high keen escaped her lips when Solidad pushed a couple fingers into her, and it was only a moment before her body reacted on its own, hips rising and back arching to allow for deeper penetration as that tongue still swirled around her clit and spelled out the words May's voice refused to project._

It's not long after this that May comes, in his fantasy, and Drew along with her. Heady passion breaks through the fantasy being lain out in his mind and there is a final pump of his fist over his cock and then he's seeing white, seeing twinking stars behind his eyelids and seeing the open-mouthed expression of his girlfriend in his mind. Oddly enough, though this started with both women, Solidad is a hundred miles away at the moment and the sudden rush of orgasm is brought on by May, by her passion and her pleasure and it doesn't make him feel quite so guilty as he cleans up with a tissue on his nightstand. His focus was on his girlfriend, not someone else, that's good. 

His guilt comes back and then some when he rolls back over on his mattress from tossing the used kleenex away, pulls the blankets up to try and sleep again, and his bedroom door opens up and May is standing there. 

He sits upright, panic sweeping through him. Had she heard him? Had he made any noise to begin with? Had she watched him? But May seems unperturbed and her umbrella, he sees, is still dripping by the front door and she's let herself in with his spare key, strips off her enormous sweatshirt over her head, and climbs into bed beside him. 

"Sorry I'm a bit late, I didn't expect driving in this would be so hard," she admits, and Drew's brain is still in a leftover state of post-orgasm haze combined with fatigue and he has no idea what she's saying until he looks at his phone and sees that her last message, the one he had ignored in favor of finishing himself off, is her mentioning that she'll be coming over to his place in a moment. 

She asks what he was thinking about about her earlier, and he deftly avoids the subject (and will not mention his stutter or how thankful he is that it's dark, because he can't look at her while he lies through his teeth about how beautiful she was and how he just wanted to see her, and how pleased he was that she was coming over that night). But May is oblivious and just giggles and says she loves him and falls right to sleep on his shoulder, cuddled up with him on this bed that now is tainted with ridiculous fantasies involving her and Solidad and Drew,

well,

Drew certainly doesn't sleep much that night. 


End file.
